


The Vice (and Other Tools) of the Greeks

by trill_gutterbug



Category: Master and Commander - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Fingering, First Time, M/M, PWP, my apologies for this awful title and tbh this awful fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 22:38:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12220356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trill_gutterbug/pseuds/trill_gutterbug
Summary: Jack pushed at the back of Stephen’s bare right thigh, raising it, and peered between with a stitch of concentration (or was it concern?) separating his brows. “This base and homely thing? How does a man enjoy anything to do with it, besides…” He shot a glance toward Stephen that seemed equal parts sudden sheepishness and unusually prim apology. “Besides the obvious."





	The Vice (and Other Tools) of the Greeks

“Surely,” said Jack, frowning, “surely, this can’t be what you find so irresistible.”

“It is.” Stephen panted, wriggling against the bed to keep his hands tucked beneath his back the way Jack had told him to almost absently, brusquely, like snapping at a fidgeting dog to stay put. “Jack, it is. You can’t-- you can’t  _ know… _ ”

Jack pushed at the back of Stephen’s bare right thigh, raising it, and peered between with a stitch of concentration (or was it concern?) separating his brows. “This base and homely thing? How does a man enjoy anything to do with it, besides…” He shot a glance toward Stephen that seemed equal parts sudden sheepishness and unusually prim apology. “Besides the obvious.”

“That’s what I mean to say.” Stephen looked down the length of his body, upper half clothed, bottom half not, his left thigh draped over Jack’s knees. “You can’t know unless you’ve experienced it.”

The hand on Stephen’s leg slid a little down, toward the curve of his ass. Stephen’s breath caught. He squirmed again, because he was mortified and aflame both at once. The endless stretching tension of it was unbearable.

“Which way…” Jack began. He cleared his throat. “Which way do you prefer it?” His cheeks were ruddy above the half-grown rough of his beard, his eyes locked between Stephen’s legs and going nowhere else.

“Like this,” Stephen said. “As we are.”

He didn’t mean the position, generally he preferred to be face-down and silent when it came to anonymous encounters with men who would be hanged for the impropriety same as him, but he did mean in a general sense what Jack was doing to him. Leaning over him with bulk and strength, his hand sliding farther toward the hot sensitive place where Stephen ached for him. Ganymede and not Zeus.

Jack’s fingertip brushed his hole. Stephen groaned and twitched from it, his toes curling against the bed on one side. His prick was firming already against his hip, but it straightened up more at that. Jack watched it with an expression that fairly transformed his face with incredulous fascination.

“Surely,” he said again, “you are some kind of anomaly, Stephen. I simply cannot fathom… for myself, that is…” He stammered off.

“Hardly,” said Stephen. “I merely have the experience of it.”

Jack’s finger pushed.

“Hold on.” Stephen nearly pulled his own hand from behind his back to stop him, but Jack had already immediately withdrawn. “You have to get your fingers wet.”

Jack looked about the cabin with a touch of wildness. “With what?”

“Your mouth will do.”

Another look askance, but Jack obeyed with a gameness that spoke to resigned indulgence, the way he looked when Stephen insisted on rigorous hand washing before meals. He slid his first two fingers into his mouth without grace. The sight of it nearly seized Stephen’s heart within his chest.

“Yes, that’s it,” he breathed, embarrassed to sound like a common letch. “Put one in. Slowly.”

Again, Jack obeyed. His finger prodded at Stephen’s hole, off-centre at first, then true. Stephen groaned as it slid in. He’d known Jack’s fingers were larger than his own, of course, larger than many men’s, but the physical truth of it was more than he’d expected. He clenched around it, helplessly, groaning again.

“Does it…” Jack trailed off, sounding dubious.

“I enjoy it.” Stephen’s hips lifted, his right foot braced against Jack’s shoulder, so that Jack’s finger slid deeper. It wasn’t quite wet enough, Jack’s big hands rough with salt and work, but that was nearly better. He shivered and shut his eyes. “Put in another.”

“All that’s holy,” Jack muttered, but it was under his breath and in a tone Stephen knew he wasn’t required to answer.

The second finger stretched abominably at first, Jack fumbling at the ingress, his knuckles pressing where they shouldn’t, but at last he got straightened out and dead-on, and Stephen arched his back against the bed and bit his lip until it felt bruised. “In and out,” he managed to say.

“Slow?”

“Fast.”

Another hesitation, Jack’s thighs flexing beneath his own, and then he obeyed. It was the next best thing to good fucking, and better by far than bad fucking. Stephen dug his toes into the breadth of Jack’s shoulder to steady himself, head tossed to the side to press his hot cheek into the cool pillow. “That’s it,” he gasped. “That’s good, that’s-- oh--”

“Stephen,” Jack said. And again, “ _ Stephen _ ,” with a note of desperate bewildered starvation.

“It’s tight, isn’t it?” Stephen spoke mostly muffled into the pillow. “Imagine it--” He broke off, gasping, as Jack’s deeply thrusting fingers pushed just hard enough at just the right angle. “Imagine your prick in there.”

Jack’s fingers stalled. “Oh,  _ Jesus _ . Can I-- Can--”

“Yes, yes!”

Stephen was momentarily dislodged as Jack tugged his fingers free, not gently enough but  _ gloriously  _ not gently enough, and pushed up onto his knees to yank at his breeches. Stephen dared to crack an eye open to watch him, but shut it quickly again when Jack’s trousers descended and his hard prick came free. It was too much, it was simply too much to see it and not have it immediately. Jack gripped his thigh again and forced it back, nails biting, but Stephen forestalled him when he realised Jack was about to go full speed ahead without preparation.

“Wet it,” he said. “Like your fingers, Jack. Use your--  _ yes _ .” He watched, half-unwilling, as Jack spat in his palm and slathered it without grace over the head of his cock. And again, down the shaft. It thrust up between his fingers, flushed, ready, and Stephen lifted his hips for it as it came close again.

“Alright?” Jack panted, pausing with it just pressed flush.

“ _ Please _ ,” said Stephen, and Jack pushed inside.

He barely made it all the way to the hilt before he had to shudder to a stop, his fingers digging into either side of Stephen’s hips. He paused with his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth in his lower lip. 

“Is it good?” Stephen whispered, although he knew the answer and felt a terrible slattern for asking.

Jack nodded. His hair was beautifully askew, half hanging in his face, sweat on his upper lip. “It’s-- I understand, I think. It’s…”

“I know,” said Stephen, driven to tenderness by the guileless tremor in Jack’s voice. “It’s alright if you finish fast, I’m nearly…” He finally pulled one hand from beneath his back and wrapped it around the painful hardness of his own prick, which had begun to wet his belly with excitement.

“Oh, good,” Jack gasped, and began thrusting. It didn’t take him long, but it took Stephen only a second longer. Jack’s prick was curved just so, and the heaviness of him was just so, and the sharp sweat smell of him was just so, and these elements combined with the wonderful mortification of being fucked for once by a man who knew him intimately already in every other regard ruined Stephen quickly and thoroughly.

An instant after Jack gasped something incomprehensible, thrust savagely a half dozen times, and spent, Stephen came with a severity that whited his vision. Jack made at noise at being wrung at so viciously when he was so freshly sensitive.

Almost immediately, Stephen went limp and Jack slid down on top of him with a grateful finality that crushed the breath out of him.


End file.
